


Night Waltz

by Murderershair (HannaM)



Category: Giselle (Ballet)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/pseuds/Murderershair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in death, Giselle remembers him still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> coincides roughly with Albrecht's entrance in Act II and their pas de deux after. Albrecht and Giselle were modeled primarly after Maxim Beloserkovsky and Irina Dvorovenko in the current American Ballet Theater production, with secondary influences from the filmed version with Rudolf Nureyv and Lynn Seymour
> 
> prompts: death, final kiss, lies, love, tragedy

For a moment, she forgets that she is dead. Seeing him brings up such fresh pain in her chest that Giselle thinks madly that she cannot be dead because being dead cannot possibly hurt this much. She runs, but that only makes it worse.

So she returns, coming when he calls, but not too close, not yet.

Giselle remembers when Loys arrived in town, and all the girls could talk about was him. He was so handsome and charming, it was no wonder that the men were wary of this noble stranger. Of course, they didn't know quite how noble he actually...

Giselle remembers Loys sitting next to her for the first time. It wasn't as though she had been ignored by men before then, but the attention had always been overbearing and unwanted. But he simply sat next to her, smiled, and didn't say anything.

Giselle remembers when Loys first found her dancing. She didn't dance in public, then, not with the pressure her mother put on her to stop. She had been deliriously happy, her heart pounding, her cheeks no doubt flushed, and then she had turned and found herself nose to chin with the elegant man that Hilarion had been telling her was nothing but trouble. Of course, she never listened to Hilarion...

Giselle remembers the feel of his hand on her hip, guiding her through the dance, his breath on her ear murmuring encouragements. His hands were so much larger than hers, so much stronger. She remembers sitting on her bed afterwards, thrilling with new secrets and trying to recall exactly what shade of blue-grey his eyes were.

And oh, with an ache, Giselle remembers the first time Loys kissed her. She thought then that her mother was right and she would die from too much excitement because her heart was pounding more than it did after dancing for an hour. Or maybe it hadn't been her heart so much as it had been other feelings which she had never really understood before.

He loves me, he loves me not...

Giselle remembers the way Loys' face flushed when he threw back his head and laughed, and the warmth of him behind her, and the smell of him drenched in sweat after dancing with her. She remembers the festival night when he had coaxed her to come to his house, where he had told her it would be as if they were married, to pretend it was all their wedding celebration. She remembers the exhilaration that had shot through her veins as he lifted her against the inside of his door, as if they were dancing, and kissed her.

She admitted that she had no idea what a husband and a wife did on their wedding night, and Giselle remembers the mischief in Loys' eyes as he whispered that he was going to teach her a new dance...

Giselle remembers everything that she was ever taught about what men and women did in private, or rather, what she was taught men did to women in private, because in every word there was a caution. Good women didn't make advances because good women, as far as Giselle could ever tell, never wanted anything from a man except for security and money and maybe a child.

But Giselle is used to not being a good woman, because Giselle is the sort who sneaks out of the house in the morning to dance because it makes her feel wonderfully alive. And afterwards it is strange to hear the other girls talk about men taking what they want from a woman and leaving her, because Loys didn't do that at all.

Loys just kept on kissing her, moving from her mouth to her cheeks to her neck to what of her was exposed by her dress already, and, even as she was aware of him loosening the laces on her stays, she was more conscious of how hot it was inside and how much more sensible it seemed to lose some clothing. And Giselle kissed him too, and, realizing that he was probably just as hot as she was, helped him take off his shirt and then they took turns kissing each others' bare skin until Giselle thought she was going to die if she ever stopped touching Loys.

Giselle remembers lying on the bed next to him, wondering if all men are hard like this or if it's just Loys who feels this wonderful. His hand moved to her knee then, guiding her the same way he did in the dance, over his thighs and as she responded his hands slid up her legs until she was straddling him like a horse. She let out a little gasp because she has felt this part of him against her before but it wasn't like this, and part of her is afraid but Loys is looking at her with adoration in his eyes and his hands are undressing her, and it feels so hard underneath her and she can't help but push against it a little and Loys moans _yes_ , and there is unbearable heat between her legs suddenly and the only thing she can think of is to move the same way again because she has never known anything like this. Loys bucks up against the bed, and the heat spreads up her body, intensifying, but she can't stop now especially when Loys pushes himself up and kisses each of her breasts. She whimpers, because she has never imagined anyone touching her like this but suddenly it is all that she wants in the world for Loys to do it again. As if he read her mind, he licks her nipple lasciviously and she cries out as his mouth fixes on it and his arm wraps around her. And he gasps _beloved, darling, love, precious_ , and her mind is whirling too quickly for her to think to call him anything more beautiful than _Loys, Loys_ , except that he looks a little sad every time she says his name so she calls him _husband_ , and his eyes shine.

Giselle remembers the way his hands continued to guide her as she rubbed parts of herself that she never learned names for against parts of him that she barely understood the purpose for, and the beautiful sounds that Loys made, inspiring her to try new movements to coax him to repeat them. She realized with a thrill that it was a dance, only dancing made her feel good in a different way. Only that was her last coherent thought because Loys cries out her name, and he feels different under her, but she is practically throbbing now, and begging him not to let these feelings stop.

He moved under her, and Giselle shuddered with pleasure as his hand slipped between her legs. His fingers moving against her are a feeling like and unlike before, but as he builds to a now familiar rhythm, she moans and arches her hips wantonly against him. The look in Loys' eyes only makes the aches sweeter-- she sees adoration, awe, and something that matches the heat she herself feels threatening to overwhelm her. His hands, she remembers, are so much bigger than her own-- and Giselle falls into an ecstasy beyond any words she knows.

Looking at... Albrecht, now, Albrecht who was her Loys-- who is her Loys, Giselle remembers all these things. He kneels before her, his eyes, expressive as always, silently begging him to forgive her.

And she knows suddenly why he is here, because now that she is dead, Giselle can dance all that she wants without getting tired, but who will smile at her? Who will lift her when she wants to fly?

She was wrong when she thought that kissing Albrecht would kill her. It is the closest now that she can come to feeling alive.


End file.
